That's Mine, Genius
by bloodonthepages
Summary: Hey, nobody said anyone gets along in the Middle East, Alfred" Interactions between Israel, Palestine, Iraq, Iran, Jordan, Syria, Lebanon, Egypt, Turkey, Afgahnistan, Pakistan, and anyone else Alfred wants oil from.
1. You Just Got PWNED

**A note from the most revered author:** Hi everyone! A lot of you may be wondering why I deleted my other Israel story. The truth is, I couldn't really finish it, because

Halfway through, Israel turned into a guy in my head, which made me realize it was better this way for all the yaoi pairing possibilities

I decided to add a Palestine, who was a guy from a start, and it just seems better if they're identical twins

NOBODY REVEIWED. I'm a total review whore, people. So if you like it, please let me know! Otherwise I'm not going to waste my time over something almost no one will read!

~Ciao, bloodonthepages

0000

It went kind of like this: he couldn't get to his house because of the giant steel wall that had been built around the perimeter. And if he didn't get to his house, that Allah-should-damn-him burger-gulping idiot would have proven his point. And it the point was proven, then Iraq couldn't go home.

Dammit.

It was times like these that he wished he could be a heavy drinker. Hookah was obviously not enough. And Syria, that bastard, would have all the more reason to laugh in between screwing his wife (who was technically Christian, but if anyone mentioned that there'd be hell to pay).

He supposed in a way part of this was his fault, yet that really didn't matter anymore. He would find out one way or another. He _refused_ to continue to be America's bitch.

And so, with that in mind and using all his strength, he kicked the steel door with all of his might.

And felt his foot shatter.

0000

Shai had been swaggering quite cheerfully home from work when he came across the Golden Opportunity; the one which allowed him to for once annoy the hell out of someone without getting his ass completely kicked. And despite his bosses warning him to lay low for a bit, he was going to take the chance.

Fishing his cell phone out of his back pocket, he flipped it open to record a screaming Raheim rolling in agony near a certain steel fortress.

"Pathetic," he mused, toeing Iraq with the tip of his boot. "The one semi-great nation, getting his balls crushed by Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, Iran, The U.S., and finally….The Wall."

"Says the guy who's technically not even a real _country_," snarled his red-eyed cousin from under the boot.

"I take offence to that," said Palestine sulkily. " M' bosses are working on it."

"_Sure._ Hey, kind of an odd question to ask, no?"

"What?"

"What's your brother's name?"

"Yep."

" 'Yep'?"

"That _is_ an odd question to ask."

They stared at each other. The younger boy twitched a bit uncomfortably. Iraq opened his mouth in horror.

"You have no friggin idea, do you?"

"Well, I know his _last_ name…"

"_You share the same last name."_

"It's still something, ain't it?!"

He hopped impatiently on his uninjured foot. "How do you spell it, dumbass?"

"نأسف - لعدم - وجود- نتائج - بحث. Jeez."

"…I'm supposed to write this in English."

"Can't spell shit in English. Whoever's reading it will have to deal."

Ruby eyes were rolled and the name was written down in a small, cute purple card. Hazel eyes stared questionably.

"Just what are you doing, anyway?"

Iraq muttered something under his breath. Shai leaned forward, cupping his hand around his ear.

"Didn't quite hear that, bro"

"."

"You have…to…"

There was a thud as the Hamas agent fell to his knees, giggling uncontrollable.

"T-to-"

"Yeah, yeah…"

"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Shut up!"

"O-okay," he wheezed, "you are now _officially_ America's bitch." A comment which earned him a hard kick in the stomach. The settlement fell to the ground, groaning.

"Says the guy who runs _bawling_ to England any time his hair so much as gets pulled," he growled.

"Hey, Gaza's _sensitive_," was the lilting response as he stroked the lock of hair that stood up among all the others. "Plus he was hitting me on the head! That hurts, you know."

"Whatever. So you seriously have no idea?"

"…Well I remember it's a mix between 'classroom' and 'prayer book' in Hebrew."

"Would it be' _school'_ in Hebrew by any chance?"

"Don't be stupid, Raheim."

"You quite sure?"

" 'Bet Sefer Malachi' just sounds stupid."

"Well this is why I'm trying to break in! He obviously wrote it somewhere…"

"Why not just _ask_ him?"

"_Ask_ him?"

"Yeah. 'Cause he's right behind you."

Iraq jumped and, ever so slowly, turned around. Sure enough, there the bastard was, with his arms crossed.

He swallowed dryly in his throat.

"How…how long were you standing there?"

A swift punch to the face answered that question. Time took its sweet time as tooth crunched by bone and blood spurted to meet saliva, the mixture forming racing rivers as they ran down the Arab's chin. It ended with another crunch –or rather, a crack- as the Iraqi hit the ground hard, landing on his wrist. Through glazed eyes he watched Palestine try to smooth things over.

"H-hey bro, we were just trying to-"

A thump and a yelp of pain ended the discussion. "Get off of my land," growled Israel.

"O-okay," he sniffed.

"Oh, and…"

Both advisories winced.

"M' name's Kitor," before the steel door was slammed behind him.

"…"

"…"

"I _knew_ it!" crowed his brother.

Raheim groaned and tried to lay back down. Screw the freedom bastard. This totally wasn't worth it.

000

Kitor made a sound of surprise. "That's odd…"

Alfred looked up from the delicious milkshake he was partaking in. "What is it?"

"…I got a card from Iraq"

America's glasses gleamed in triumph. "Why, I _wonder_ what it could say! You'd better open it."

"…"

"Well? What does it say?"

The Holy Land's eyes narrowed considerably.

_Dear idiot Jew-dog who will forever be cursed with fiery hell Kitor Malachi,_

_I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble, because it led to me causing trouble to that fat bastard who enjoys _

_stuffing burgers up his ass. But then again, you'd know all about stuffing things up his ass, wouldn't you? _

_So yeah, I'm sorry for that, and I'm especially sorry that you ever existed, because you are a total bastard _

_and I'm in considerable pain writing this, considering that you broke my fucking wrist. And by the way _

_your hummus tastes like ass and your Dead Sea products don't do shit. I'm just sayin'._

_Anyway this is still totally worth it because it means America will stop keeping me on such a short leash. _

_So see you next week, and if I were you I'd increase my security, as I am going to rip your tongue right _

_out of your fuckin mouth._

_Shai says 'Hi.'_

_May Allah rip your spine out and revive you so He may do it again,_

_Raheim Hamza Tahi Al-Rawi _

"Oh, just a friendly little greeting from Iraq."

000

"Oh yeah, Raheim?"

"What?"

"Why were you kicking the wall?"

"I told you. I didn't really know how to get inside."

Shai beamed. "Well why didn't you just ask? I sneak in there all the time!"

"…"

"What?"

"…Shai?"

"Yeah?"

And the fist went into his face.


	2. It's a lot like a soap opera

**A note from the most revered author:**

Sorry for popping in, just wanna answer a reviewer's question:

'Kitores' refers to certain sacrificial spices/incense used in ancient days. I just tried to make it singular and male (correct me if I just totally screwed the language up). Also, I assumed I could use it as a name as in the bible Abraham's second wife was named 'Kitores' or 'Kitorah' (I forgot which one. It was something like that.)

Secondly, as far as 'Shai' is concerned, it means the same thing in Arabic. I just didn't know it was also Hebrew. But I agree it does seem kind of strange but it will be explained all in due time.

**On another note, anyone who's been keeping track of the Turkey/Israel relationship recently will get this.**

~Ciao, bloodonthepages

000

"Well, Sadiq, why don't you have a seat?"

"…"

Not only was the couch a full four inches shorter then a normal futon, but the Israeli was sitting behind a really tall desk, making him seem even taller. Said soldier lit a cigarette for himself.

"What's a matter? Gonna back out of this, too?"

He's so juvenile, thought Turkey as his eyes rolled behind the mask. For someone who was _supposed_ to be one of the older nations, he acted more on the emotional level of Sealand. And to make it more annoying, the bastard hadn't even taken off his sunglasses despite the poorly lit room. Well, screw it, then. There was no way in hell he was takin off the mask, no matter _how_ much Alfred complained.

Grudgingly, he sat down. Even the hookah America had provided was of poor quality. He could tell just by _looking _ at it how crappy was.

Meanwhile, Kitor continued to glare. Or at least, it was an estimated guess that he was glaring. Hard to tell behind those goddamned shades.

_Okay. Be cool, Sadiq._

"…So why did you call me here again?"

The other snorted. "Please. I'm not doing this because I want to."

Turkey smirked. "So, listening to Jones again, huh? Seems you've been doing that a lot, despite your macho display of refusing to freeze the settlements-"

"Better than being _Syria's_ bitch." Israel snapped.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh yeah, I know you always talk to him and smoke together, and obviously _someone_ changed your mind…"

"I am _nobody's_ bitch," he roared, "stop blaming me for making my own independent decisions!"

"Stop blaming _me_ for making _mine_!"

"Oh please, you shade-wearing vowel-elongating asshole. There's a difference between making independent decisions and telling the entire world to fuck off at a conference meeting!"

"Oh, that was _one time_! I _said_ I was sorry!"

"No, you didn't! You kicked Jordan out the window when he tried to break you and Iran up!"

"First of all, I was in the midst of obtaining serious information from that nuking bastard-"

"Bullshit."

By this time both respective parties had risen from their seats and were standing face, staring each other down.

"You wanna start something, bitch?"

"Bring it, כלבה"

000

America's boss frowned. "…Do you think we should stop them? They seem to be arguing violently."

Alfred shrugged. "I'm not really sure…I once tried to break up what I thought was a bunch or arguing Israelis, but it turned out they were just discussing the weather. Maybe it's the same here-"

A distraction ended the argument as a figure came crashing through the wall, spraying plaster everywhere and effectively making a gaping hole to the meeting room on the other side.

"Hold this, I don't want to crack it," said Kitor, tossing his sunglasses to a bewildered Alfred before leaping back through the wall with a roar of "! מת עכשיו עוף, אתה שמן"

"جعله على" roared Sadiq back, who had already discarded his mask. The sound of fighting ensured.

"…Or not," muttered Alfred's boss.

"Oh, I er…" stuttered America. "Don't worry, I'll heroically fix this!"

He carefully stepped over the rubble and tore apart the two Middle Eastern nations, holding them at bay by their shirt collars. "Stop it," he said matter of factly.

"Don't tell me what to-"

"No, he's right," said Israel, cutting him off.

America grinned. The hero once more!

"…Let's take this outside."

"Fine with me," snapped Turkey, wiping off some blood which had trickled down his chin.

"Hey, come on guys…"

"Why the _hell_ are you even doing this to me?" The Jewish nation demanded.

"Why did you have to bomb Gaza like that? Your brother's a nice guy…"

"Oh please, he's been dropped on his head since he was an infant, I think he's used to it by now. And besides, he's a total dick. How do you even know him?"

"Well, you see, I had him for a little while before handing him off to Syria, so Hercules re-introduced me…"

A spark flashed in the soldier's eyes. "…I hate that guy."

"Oh yeah? Well- wait, what?"

"I don't like Greece."

Sadiq looked like an adolescent who had found his parent's liquor cabinet. "You…you don't?"

"No."

Turkey grinned broadly. "I don't like him either! That lazy bastard."

"Yeah, he never even works! Plus he's friends with Palestine, so…"

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go beat him up!"

Kitor grinned and linked arms with him. Using his other hand to take his shades back from a gaping-mouthed Alfred, he placed them carefully in their rightful place, hiding a swollen eye.

000

A few minutes had passed since the two nations had run off. Slowly, Alfred turned around to face his boss.

"Well," he stated after an awkward pause, "mission accomplished!"

0000

**Translation note; **

כלבה- bitch

מת עכשיו עוף, אתה שמן- you are so dead now, you fat chicken

جعله على- bring it on


End file.
